


it's like a summer shower

by neenswrites



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anniversary, Bad Cooking, Cooking, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Kenma is trying his best, Kuroken day, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:47:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23945665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neenswrites/pseuds/neenswrites
Summary: Kenma’s breath catches at the memory, and then he’s blurting out, “Do you still have it?”“Have what?”“…the recipe,” Kenma replies haltingly. A pause. “And maybe some pictures for how it looked all set up.”“Kenma…” his mother says breathlessly, and he’s honestly not sure if she sounds awed or horrified. “Are you going to attempt to make it?”-It's Kuroo's and Kenma's anniversary and Kenma wants to do something different - cook him dinner. He regrets the decision pretty much immediately.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 63
Kudos: 574
Collections: My favorite haikyuu fics, Recommended KuroKen Fics





	it's like a summer shower

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Kuroken Day!!!!
> 
> Okay FIRST everyone go look at this [art](https://twitter.com/halfquaint/status/1256202709775966209) that's part of a collab with [kanon!](https://twitter.com/halfquaint)
> 
> it's THE cutest thing ever and i die every time i look at it again
> 
> SECOND huge thanks to [christy](https://twitter.com/kodzukuro) for being the MOST amazing beta ever i love her
> 
> THIRD....i hope you like it!!

“The cherry blossoms bloomed even earlier this year.”

Kenma hums in a display of mild interest, half-listening to Kuroo.

“I kind of hate that,” Kuroo adds.

Kenma pauses. He looks back from editing his most recent video to Kuroo. They’re both still in bed, neither one wanting to get up despite the many things they both had to do that day. Kuroo himself is sitting against the headboard, the book he’d been reading now laying open across his lap as he looks out the window with a wistful expression on his face.

“It’s like they keep coming sooner and sooner every year,” he continues as Kenma tries to decipher the look on his face. “Hell, in a couple of years maybe we’ll even start the year off with them.”

“Where’s this coming from?” Kenma asks as he rolls off his stomach to sit up and face Kuroo.

“It’s just the sooner they come, the sooner they go,” Kuroo says with a sigh. “When we were kids, the cherry blossoms were still in bloom by the time school started. Now it’s about that time, and they’re already starting to fade.”

Kenma throws a pillow at Kuroo, and relishes in the way Kuroo sputters.

“Why do you always sound like such an old man?” Kenma asks with a smirk. “So, what if the cherry blossoms aren’t blooming at the same time they used to?”

“I don’t know, how about climate change?” Kuroo exclaims. Kenma shoots him a flat look and Kuroo purses his lips. “It’s just…things are so different now then we were kids. I guess I’m just feeling a little nostalgic.”

Kenma hums and reaches forward to pull at Kuroo’s hand. Once he has Kuroo’s attention, he looks pointedly around their bedroom. He lets his eyes linger on the photographs on the wall, their cat napping in the sunlight, and the huge bed they’re sharing before dragging his eyes back to Kuroo.

“I think different can be good.”

Kuroo squeezes Kenma’s hand with a small huff of laughter. “Yeah. You’re right.”

Kenma takes that at his cue to crawl into Kuroo’s arms. He lets a pleased sound escape from the back of his throat as Kuroo wraps his arms around him and pulls him close

“Do you remember when I first moved here, and how I was so nervous about starting school?” Kuroo mumbles into Kenma’s hair once he settles. Kenma nods in response. “I didn’t want to go at all, especially since we weren’t in the same grade level and you were the only person I knew.”

Kenma hums again to let Kuroo know he’s listening, but also closes his eyes as he keeps speaking. At this rate, he’s likely to fall back asleep soon.

“And then my grandmother made me that incredible kaiseki the day before classes to encourage me,” Kuroo continues, and Kenma does remember that. Kuroo had stayed at Kenma’s house the whole day so his grandmother could prepare the meal, and he had been so happy when he saw the surprise. Kenma didn’t think he would ever be able to forget the way Kuroo’s eyes had lit up that day. “It was around this time of the year when that happened too.”

“Didn’t my mom try making it one time?” Kenma asks with a furrow of the brow. His memory isn’t incredible, but he swears he remembers his mother attempting it. But he can’t quite remember why she would…

_ Oh. _

“Yeah,” Kuroo says, and he sounds so sad and Kenma feels so awful for forgetting. “It was after my grandmother passed away.”

“Kuro…”

“I’m good, I’m good,” Kuroo reassures him as he squeezes Kenma a bit tighter. “I was already thinking about her anyway, especially since our anniversary is in a few weeks.”

Kenma opens his eyes and pulls back a bit to look at Kuroo’s face in confusion. “How are those two things connected?”

Kuroo raises his eyebrows at Kenma. “Have I never told you?” At Kenma’s slow shake of the head, Kuroo smiles softly and looks up as he recalls the memory. “About a month before I asked you out for the first time, I went to my grandmother’s grave.”

Kenma’s breath catches.

“I was so nervous, because I didn’t want to mess up our friendship and I wanted to make sure I was doing the right thing,” Kuroo continues as he starts rubbing small circles into the small of Kenma’s back. “So, I asked her to give me a sign – if the cherry blossoms lasted until May, then I would swallow my fear and ask you out.”

Kuroo looks down and Kenma clenches his fist in Kuroo’s shirt at how overwhelmingly fond he looks.

“And they did.”

“And they did,” Kenma repeats softly.

“So, I guess I’m a little sad that it seems like that’s not going to happen again for a while,” Kuroo says.

“Well, why would you need it to?” Kenma asks quietly. At Kuroo’s curious gaze, he averts his eyes and wishes he could will away the flush rising on his cheeks. “I mean, you got me so…you don’t really need them to last until May anymore…”

Kuroo laughs, all wistfulness gone from his face as he looks at Kenma. Kenma smiles at that until Kuroo is pulling him close again and rolling them over so that he’s on top of Kenma.

“Kenma, that was so sweet,” Kuroo coos as he crushes Kenma beneath him.

“Kuro, off, I can’t breathe!” Kenma says as he beats one fist against Kuroo’s back and pushes the other against his chest, but the man just continues to laugh. Kenma finally manages to push him onto this side and he huffs at him through his hair. “Why are you like this?”

“You knew what you were signing up for,” Kuroo says with a grin, and Kenma rolls his eyes.

Yeah, he did know. And he’s never been one for making a huge deal about anniversaries in the ways so many other couples did. Sure, there was a particular day that Kuroo had finally asked him out, but they’d been by each other’s sides since long before then. It always seemed dumb to celebrate that date when there was so much history prior to it.

But after what Kuroo’s said, Kenma thinks he might want to do something special this year. His eyes catch on the calendar behind Kuroo’s head and see their anniversary circled four weeks from that Friday.

“Hm, Kuro,” Kenma asks in a deliberately sleepy tone, taking care to make sure his voice doesn’t sound too interested. “After that time my mom made it, did you ever have that kaiseki again,”

“God, no,” Kuroo said with a snort. “It’s a killer to make. I can hardly believe your mom even did it that one time.”

Kenma nods and lets himself close his eyes again. He’s going to need plenty of rest if he was going to be calling his mother tomorrow.

-

Kenma turns his phone in his hands a couple more times before glancing at the door. Kuroo left the house 15 minutes ago for work, and Kenma wants to be sure he’s not going to come barging back in because he forgot something and ruin the surprise.

If he can get through this call, that is. It’s not like he and his mom are on bad terms. It’s just that he hasn’t called in…for too long, and he doesn’t really want to go through the fuss she’s going to put up.

But it’s worth it for Kuroo.

It’s that thought that has him finally dialling his mother’s number.

“Kenma!” his mother answers cheerfully. “It’s been much too long since you’ve called me, for all I know you could’ve been dead!”

Kenma rolls his eyes at her dramatics. Sure, he may not call her as often as she may like, but he knows for a fact that Kuroo makes it a point to call her every other week – and they usually end up on call for hours.

“Sorry,” Kenma replies, not sounding sorry at all.

“Of course, you are,” she answers, tone just as dry as Kenma’s. His lip twitches. “How are you though? And how is Tetsu-kun?”

“We’re good, but that’s actually why I called you,” Kenma says as he leans against the kitchen counter. He bites his lip, unsure of how to start. “…Do you remember that time you made Kuroo that really elaborate kaiseki for his birthday when we were younger? The one based on his grandmother’s recipe?”

“Oh, do I,” she exclaims. “That took me all day to prepare! Not to mention the ingredients – did you know I had to drive an hour out of the city to find some of the things that recipe required!”

His mother chuckles, before releasing a soft sigh.

“But he was so happy when he saw it all,” she says softly, and Kenma’s heart twinges. “It was a lot of work, but it was worth it to see Tetsurou smile for the first time in a while.”

Kenma’s breath catches at the memory, and then he’s blurting out, “Do you still have it?”

“Have what?”

“…the recipe,” Kenma replies haltingly. A pause. “And maybe some pictures for how it looked all set up.”

“Kenma…” his mother says breathlessly, and he’s honestly not sure if she sounds awed or horrified. “Are you going to attempt to make it?”

“Why did you have to add the word attempt?” Kenma says as he narrows his eyes. He knows his mother can’t see him, but he thinks the expression is conveyed by the tone in his voice.

“Kenma, be honest, when is the last time you cooked something that wasn’t just you boiling noodles?” his mother asks directly. Kenma bit his tongue to bite back from saying he’d also learn to make tamagoyaki because he thinks it would just prove his mother’s point even more. “This isn’t something you just do on whim. It’s very difficult, not to mention time-consuming, and I’m not sure you actually know what you’re getting yourself into.”

“I’m not completely incompetent, there’s a recipe, right?” Kenma asks. His mother gives a vaguely positive response in the form of a hum.

“There are 14 different dishes.”

Kenma's entire face drops. 14 dishes? Who could possibly ever need 14 dishes?  _ Who could possibly ever eat 14 dishes? _

But then he remembers Kuroo’s tone when he had been talking about it. The face he’d made as a child when Kenma’s mother had made it for him. Everything Kuroo’s ever done to care for him.

Kenma takes a deep breath and steels himself.

“It’s okay. I have time to learn it, so it’ll be fine.”

“Time?” she asks before letting out a sharp inhale. Kenma immediately regrets speaking. “Oh, Kenma, are you trying to do this for Kuroo? As a gift?”

“Please, don’t tell him,” Kenma replies with a sigh. There’s no use lying – even on a phone call, his mother can read him with ease. “I know you two talk about…everything, but please try and keep this from him.”

“I will, but Kenma…” she trails off uncertainty. “Just try not to overwork yourself.”

Kenma snorts. “When has that ever been a problem?”

His mother hums knowingly.

“For most things, you’re right that’s not an issue,” she says fondly. “But with the things and  _ people _ you really care about…just take care of yourself, okay?”

“You worry too much,” Kenma sighs. “I’m just making dinner. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, just know there’s no shame in asking for help in this, okay?” his mother replies. Once he gives a vague noise of agreement, she tells him to get a pen and some paper ready. “I have the recipe saved somewhere...oh, here it is!”

As his mother starts listing the many ingredients for all the different parts of the meal, Kenma can’t help but feel worry creep into the back of his mind. It really is a lot, and his mother isn’t wrong about the fact that he has pretty abysmal cooking skills.

But their anniversary isn’t for another 4 weeks. It falls on a Friday this year, and every Friday Kuroo has to stay later for work anyway. So Kenma can use these upcoming Fridays to practice making the dish and get rid of the evidence before Kuroo even gets home.

All he has to do first is find these obscure ingredients.

-

Kenma bangs his head against the steering wheel of his car and just…stays like that for a little while, the leather wheel pressing into his forehead.

When his mother had said she’d needed to drive an hour out of the city to get all the ingredients for the recipe, he thought she’d been exaggerating.

Now, in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, he can see it had been a fair warning.

And he still isn’t done!

He’s had to comb over practically every store and market in this whole city, buying the exact type of ingredients from one place and then driving across town for another, and he’s still missing a vegetable – udo.

And it’s not because he hasn’t found it anywhere! But his mother had been so specific about every little detail, and none of what he’d managed to find had met her insane list of requirements. One was too leafy, another one’s stem was too soft, and another was much too small.

So, as Kenma sits in his car, head resting against the steering wheel and in front of the last possible market he can go to, he’s pretty much praying to just about any deity that he finds the stupid vegetable.

He finally manages to pull himself out of his car, and he drags his feet towards the market. It’s much smaller than all the other ones he’s been to, but that just means everything feels like it’s packed tight. People keep bumping into him, someone definitely stepped on his shoes, and he doesn’t even know where to begin looking because everything looks the same in the low light of the place. 

Then he sees it.

It’s the most perfect udo he’s ever seen in his life. And maybe he’s being dramatic, but it is the one that comes closest to his mother’s ridiculous standards and the last ingredient he needs before he can finally go home. And it’s the last one on the table.

He’s moving towards it before he can even think. Kenma is practically running, but he honestly can’t even bring himself to care. His fingers just barely graze the vegetable before someone else snatches it from beside him.

Kenma stares at the now absent space in horror.

“Excuse me,” says the woman who had stolen his udo right from under him as she tries to shoulder her way past Kenma. “I’m trying to get to the asparagus.”

Kenma kind of wants to scream.

He won’t, because the last thing he needs is the sort of attention that would bring, but he desperately wishes there was a way for him to kick the woman in the knees and steal the udo from her without any repercussion.

He’s staring off, imagining all of this, when one of the market workers comes up to him.

“Hello, did you need any—Oh my God,” the young man exclaims, and Kenma lets out a long-suffering sigh. This is why he wanted the face mask. “You’re—you’re—you’re Kodzuken! Oh, my goodness, I can’t believe you’re here!”

Kenma feels the blush already creeping up his cheeks, and desperately wishes he’d left his hair down so he could duck beneath it. As it is, he just looks at the floor. He’s gotten better at meeting fans in public, but this sort of praise from a stranger never fails to embarrass Kenma to no end.

At least Kuroo wasn’t here to egg them on.

“Oh my God, did you know I’ve been watching your videos for years!” the guy continues, seemingly oblivious to how uncomfortable Kenma is. “You’re my favorite! If you need anything, absolutely anything at all, please just let me know!”

And Kenma perks up immediately at that. He’s never been one to use his fame for anything – it gives him the same feeling of using his upperclassmen status to boss his juniors around.

But if it means he can finally get home…

“Actually,” he starts, and immediately flinches at the intensity of the young man’s stare. “Um, you wouldn’t happen to know if you had any extra udo around here?”

“Did you need some? I’m sure I can find it for you,” the young man replies. He gestures for Kenma to follow him before he’s weaving his way through the crowd of people. Kenma manages to keep up with him, though he does nearly get elbowed in the face, and by the time he catches up to the worker they’re by the door to the backroom.

“I’ll go see if anything from our morning delivery still hasn’t been stocked yet,” he says with a grin. Kenma nods awkwardly as the man pushes through the door. He feels awkward waiting, and would pull out his phone or handheld to play a game if he wasn’t so worried about it encouraging his...fan to talk to him more. He’s considering running the risk of that anyway when the door swings open and nearly whacks Kenma in the face.

“Sorry,” the guy calls out, but Kenma hardly looks at him. He’s too distracted by the huge potted udo plant he’s dragging out.

“Um, I don’t need the plant,” Kenma says as he stares at the thing in horror. “Just the vegetable.”

“I got that here for you, don’t worry,” he says as he pulls a bundle of udo from behind his back. “But to get this from stock early, I kinda let it slip that you were sort of a famous rich Youtuber. And my supervisor said I could sell it to you, but only if you take this plant too.”

Kenma grimaces. He has a lot of qualms with everything this guy had just said, but most pressing is what’s he going to do with a huge udo plant? Would it even fit in his car?

But the udo he does have is perfect, and he figures it's better than nothing.

By the time he makes it to the register, Kenma is almost in tears. He finally has everything he needs, and now he can finally go home. He steps out of the grocery store with relief, but then immediately frowns when he sees how late in the day it already is. It’s much later than he anticipated, and he’s not going to have time to cook once he gets home. And if he just leaves these groceries in the kitchen, Kuroo is sure to notice them.

He needs a place to stash them.

He runs through his list of friends in his mind. He needs someone who lives close by, so he can pick the groceries up easily tomorrow. Someone who has the space in their fridge. Someone who was unlikely to interact with Kuroo and accidentally let it slip what Kenma’s planning.

Kenma scowls as he realizes his only option.

Dragging the udo to his car, he pulls out his phone, dials the number, and prays the idiot won’t ask too many questions.

“Kenma! You’re calling me? You never call me! Is everything okay? What’s happening?”

“Lev,” Kenma interrupts, already thin on patience. He just needs to make sure that he can actually use his place, and then he’ll be done. “Are you home right now?”

“Yeah, how did you know?”

“And do you still live in that apartment complex that’s only a couple blocks away from me?”

“You remember!”

“When was the last time you went grocery shopping?”

“…”

“I’m coming over,” Kenma says. He gives Lev a moment to protest, but when all he catches is an overenthusiastic garble of words, he figures he’s fine. He hangs up, puts the udo in his car’s backseat, and slides into the driver’s seat. He has enough time to drop the groceries off, make it home, and lounge around the apartment as if he hadn't left the whole day by the time Kuroo got home.

And maybe he’s driving a little over the speed limits, but the thought of finally being home with Kuroo is worth it.

By the time he’s pulling into the parking lot of Lev’s place, he’s more than ready to wash his hands of the whole day. He slides out the car and goes to open the trunk, but then his eyes widen at the sight.

Since he’d had to go to so many different places, he hadn’t had to consider just how many groceries he’d actually gotten. Technically speaking, he should be able to bring it up in one trip. He’s seen Kuroo do it countless times before – usually while Kenma himself was carrying the bags with the eggs.

He pulls out his phone to text Lev for help, but frowns when he realizes he doesn’t have any reception in the parking garage. If he wants Lev to help, he’d have to go all the way up to his apartment, ask for help, and then come all the way down, and then lug the groceries back up again.

Guess he’ll have to do it himself.

He tries overlapping as many of the groceries as he can in his arms, and nearly tips over as he stands up straight. He eyes the obnoxiously large udo plant with disdain. He wouldn’t have been able to carry it anyway, and figures he’ll find some way to trick Lev into taking it.

Making his way from the parking lot to the lobby of Lev’s apartment, he’s absolutely devastated to see the ‘Out of Order’ sign on the elevators.

Of course. Nothing about today could be easy.

Kenma drags his way over to the stairs, and by the time he makes it to Lev’s fourth-floor apartment, he hates everything and everyone. He hates stairs. He hates udo root. He hates the lady that stole the udo from him. He hates all markets. He definitely hates Lev’s apartment complex.

He’s debating if he hates Lev or not when he finally makes it to his front door, and kicks at it to knock since his hands are completely occupied. He only has to wait a couple of moments before the booming sound of footsteps start coming from inside the apartment, and then Lev is swinging his door open.

“Kenma-san!”

“I literally don’t know how many times I need to tell you to drop the -san,” Kenma says as he helps himself into Lev’s apartment. He immediately drops the groceries in the kitchen, and practically collapses against the counter.

“Those are a lot of groceries,” Lev says curiously as he follows after Kenma. “Oh, also, how did you remember my address! You haven’t been here in forever.”

“I figured I could use this place if things ever went south for me.”

“Haha, what?

“Can you keep these groceries in here for the night?” Kenma asks with cheek skill pressed against Lev’s counter. “I’ll come and grab them all tomorrow, but I can’t keep them in my house.”

“Why not?” Lev asks, and  _ wow, _ did Kenma hate his curious nature.

“I don’t have any room,” he says flatly as he finally lifts himself off the counter and starts pulling the groceries for their bag.

“Well then why did you buy them?” Lev continues, clearly not sated. Kenma feels his eyebrow twitch.

“Because I didn’t realize how much space this trip was going to take,” he says looking at Lev from the corner of his eye. The moment Lev opens his mouth again, he interrupts him. “Lev, can I or can’t I leave them here?”

“Oh, well, yeah I guess,” Lev answers, and Kenma immediately opens his fridge to start stuffing the vegetables in. As he suspected, it’s completely empty. Lev continues, “It’s just a weird request is all.”

Kenma sighs.

“I’ll tell you more about it after you help me with the groceries,” Kenma says wearily. Lev perks up immediately, and begins to help Kenma put the food away. “And are you free tomorrow at around 9 in the morning? That’s when I want to pick these up.”

“Yep, that works for me,” Lev says cheerily as he starts putting the dry foods in the pantry. “So what’s the reason for all of this? I’m already helping you, so you might as well tell me.”

“I’m making a surprise for someone,” Kenma replies as he collects the empty cloth bags and begins stuffing them inside of each other.

“Oh, is it for Kuroo-san?” Lev asks as he turns to face Kenma eagerly. “Is that why you can’t keep this at your place?”

And Kenma hates that Lev picks the worst times to be perceptive. “If you tell him, I will murder you in your sleep.”

“Kenma you’re so funny sometimes,” Lev chuckles as he puts the last of the groceries away. Kenma gives him a blank stare, and Lev’s chuckles start to turn more nervous. “Not that you have to worry about that! My lips are sealed!”

“I have a surprise for you in my car as thanks for letting me do this,” is what Kenma responds with as he makes his way back towards Lev’s front door.

“Aw, Kenma, you didn’t have to get me anything!” Lev says as he follows him out of his apartment. Kenma ignores him - mostly because he hadn’t really gotten for Lev - but it doesn’t deter the other man. By Kenma’s count, Lev repeats roughly a hundred variations of that same phrase by the time they make it down to his car.

“Okay, hold this for me,” he says as he pulls the large udo plant out of his back seat. Lev’s eyes widen at its size, and he takes it from Kenma in confusion. Kenma unlocks his car, and before he slides in, he says, “It reminded me of you, so you can have it.”

Then he slams his car door shut and drives off without a single glance back.

-

Kenma is awoken by his cell phone vibrating. He glares at the offending device, and is tempted to chuck it across the room until he sees Lev’s name as the caller ID.

_ Why would Lev be calling Kenma in the morning? _

And then suddenly he remembers.

Kenma jolts up in bed and checks the time on his phone. Half-past noon.

Fuck.

“Lev, you have a car, right?” Kenma says as he answers the phone and throws the blankets off himself. He stands up quickly, but becomes a little disoriented.

“Oh, Kenma you answered!” Lev replies in delight. “I’ve been calling you for hours now, and I knew I couldn’t ask Kuroo-san so- ”

“Lev, a car, yes or no?” Kenma asks as he presses a hand into his forehead.

“Ah, sorry! Yeah, my sister gave me her old one a couple months ago.”

“I need you to bring all the groceries from yesterday to me as soon as possible,” Kenma tells leave as his headache momentarily subsides and he makes his way into his bathroom. “I will pay for your gas, new shoes, whatever, just please as soon as you can.”

“I can be there now,” Lev replies seriously, and Kenma is both surprised and touched by his tone. “Just give me ten minutes.”

The front door is ringing eight minutes later.

“Delivery for Kenma!” Lev exclaims as Kenma opens the door. Kenma gestures him inside the house, and once Lev sets the groceries down he checks over to make sure everything’s there.

“Perfect,” Kenma says with a relieved sigh. “Thank you Lev, I really wasn’t going to be able to push cooking this dinner back a single day.

Lev’s eyes widen at Kenma. “Dinner? As in singular? As in all this is just for one dinner?”

“Yeah, I know,” Kenma says with a rueful smile. 

“But you don’t cook!” Lev exclaims and Kenma’s scowls at him. Was that response about to become a recurring theme in Kenma’s life? “If you don’t cook, how are you going to make something so big?”

“That’s what this practice is for,” Kenma says in frustration. “And now I need to make a meal I thought I’d have all day for in less than five hours.”

“Well, good luck then,” Lev says with a shrug. “I don’t think this is how you're supposed to start cooking, but you’ve figured out things like this before I guess.”

And as he walks Lev to the door, he is holding his tongue to keep a snarky comment to himself. The man had driven to his house in record time after all.

Funnily enough, record timing is what he was going to need to pull off this meal in such a short time frame.

But Kenma thinks he can do it. And even if he can’t, at least he’ll get the practice in. 

What’s the worst that could happen?

And Kenma really should have known that he was asking for trouble the moment that thought crossed his mind.

And yeah, he’s possibly tempting fate by trying to adjust for time by cooking everything at a slightly higher heat, but it makes sense logically. If he just cooks it all at a higher temperature then it should be done sooner. It works for Cooking Mama at least. 

And perhaps he has too many things going at once, but he’s trying to make his way through 14 different dishes! He isn’t going to do that by going one-by-one -- not today and not when it came to the actual anniversary. So it’s better to practice having a lot of different dishes going anyway.

And maybe he shouldn’t have turned his attention away from the stove to look at the list of recipes over again. But it was a lot of information and Kenma wants to make sure that he’s at least going through the motions correctly. So even if he needs to take his eyes off the kitchen for a moment to do this, it shouldn’t be for a long enough time for it to matter.

And apparently, doing all of these things together is the reason that while he’s scanning over the 8th recipe, the smell of smoke starts to invade his nose. His eyebrows scrunch as he turns to follow the source, and then his eyes are practically bulging as he sees the smoke coming from three of the pans on the stove.

He rushes over immediately, and shuts all the ranges on the stove off. He releases a sigh of relief when he sees nothing is one fire, but he can’t help but frown at the sight of all the food he’d been working on.

Everything is completely burnt to a crisp. The grilled mackerel looks completely blackened, the rice is browning at the sides, and he even managed to burn the soup which was little more than boiling water.

There’s no way he looked away for more than five minutes, but apparently that’s enough for everything to have all gone to tell.

And to make matters worse, the pans are sticking to burned food, and the smell of smoke is probably spreading throughout the entire house. 

Okay, priority number one is making sure Kuroo doesn’t find out about any of this. That means cleaning the pans until they’re perfect, and clearing the house of any signs of smoke. 

He opens all the windows, and turns on every single fan he can find. Then he starts gently scraping all the burnt food into a trash bag, and he frowns as he realizes he’ll have to even toss the food he had prepped but hasn’t cooked yet. But he doesn’t have time to cook anything else if he’s going to get the kitchen back to normal.

Once all the pans are clear of burnt remains, he soaks them, tosses the trash, and then comes back to scrub relentlessly at every pan until they shine. By the time Kuroo comes home for the day, Kenma is an exhausted heap on the couch.

“Rough day?” Kuroo asks gently as he comes up to Kenma. Kenma merely grunts in response, but his lip does quirk up when Kuroo leans down to kiss his forehead. “What did you want for dinner today.”

It takes all of Kenma to not scowl at the question. “Can we just order something in?”

“Yeah, that works for me,” Kuroo replies as he stretches his arms high above his head. He pauses mid-stretch, and sniffs. “Do you smell smoke?”

“Must be the neighbors,” Kenma mumbles as he turns to squish his cheek against the arm of the couch. “You can pick the restaurant.”

Kuroo perks up immediately, and Kenma watches as he leaves to the kitchen to get his favorite menus. He’s calling out his ideas, but Kenma’s still wrapped up in his own thoughts.

And okay so maybe burning everything because of his rush wasn’t his best move, but that’s a relatively easy thing to fix. He just needs to remember to wake up earlier and get everything done in a single day.

And the following Friday he’s successful. Kenma is loathing the fact he’d had to get up so early as he groggily struggles to juggle the groceries in his hands as he tries pulling his keys from his pocket. He wishes he didn’t have to buy more groceries every week, but apparently it’s very important to get the ingredients as freshly as possible.

He thinks that’s fake, but he also doesn’t have the capabilities of carrying a bulk amount of the groceries, so he’ll have to suffer through it.

When he finally gets his house door open, he sighs in relief. He wants to throw the bags on the ground, but he carefully brings them into the kitchen and sets them on the counter where they’re unlikely to get damaged.

Wincing as he releases his death grip on the bag, he turns his hands so he can look at his palms, and he grimaces at the sight. The cloth of the bags has rubbed his fingers raw and red, and in some places, it even looks like it might blister.

It’s fine. It might make gaming a bit more of a pain then it has to be, but he’s suffered through far worse.

What matters is that he got the groceries much more quickly today, and he doesn’t have to worry about rushing and accidentally burning everything. He’s also gone through the process once, so he has a better idea of what to expect.

Kenma gets to working and he’s pleasantly surprised at how much less stressful the process is when he’s not constantly glancing at the clock. The only issue is that he’s now realizing how short his cooking skills fall.

He cuts vegetables slowly and sloppily, nothing at all like the quick and meticulous way Kuroo does it. But when he tries gaining speed, he ends up cutting the sides of his fingers. At this point, he’s sliced them more times than he can count, but

And quite possibly most frustrating is that he can’t for the life of him keep his attention focused on what he’s doing. Last time he had been in so much of a rush, he didn’t have time to think about anything except cooking. However, now he has more downtime in between waiting for things to heat up more mix. He only has so many stovetops, so he can only do so much. So, he ends up pulling his handheld from his pocket along to pass the time. And while he hasn’t burned anything, he has missed the timing on a lot of the different recipes.

And he’s also not sure how much of anything to add. His mother hadn’t been sure about the finer measurements like how much salt to add or how much spice to include. He tries adding it incrementally, but he feels like he still can’t taste any of it and just continues adding more. It’ll probably all come together once he’s done with it all. 

And once he is done with it all, he grimaces at the sight. Nothing looks back, but the presentation of the dishes doesn’t match what his mother had sent him at all. But he can worry about that next time. What matters now is the taste. Grabbing a spoon, he pulls the closet bowl closer, and raises to his lips to take a small sip.

He immediately spits it out. 

Kenma glares down at the offending broth. It had somehow been both too salt and too bitter at the same time - and the goal was for it to be tangy. He turns to try the rice and recoils the moment it touches his tongue.

And plate after plate, bowl after bowl, everything Kenma put together seemed to taste awful. In fact, the more he tried the food, the more his taste buds seemed to reject the flavor. He gets through half the dishes before he gives up, grabs a garbage bag, and starts tossing the food away. He grimaces – partly because of how much food he’s wasting – but mostly because he’s so frustrated.

At least last time, Kenma knew he’d messed up because his food was burned to a crisp. But the issue is that here he can’t see anything wrong. The food maybe looks a little less lacklustre than it should, and some of it had gotten cold from sitting out so much, but that can’t be the only reason it all seemed to turn to ash in Kenma’s mouth.

And while he knows he isn’t perfect in the kitchen; he was hoping for something better than this. And without being able to identify anything wrong, he isn’t sure what to do next.

By the time he’s taking the trash out, Kenma realizes he’s going to have to enlist in some help. And it’s the worst realization because this was supposed to be Kenma’s gift to Kuroo, and now he’s going to have to rely on other people just to get it decent.

Tossing out the bag, Kenma slowly makes his way back into the house. He writes a small note to Kuroo, letting him know he’d had a long day and was going to bed early, before dragging his feet to his bedroom.

Luckily, the ache building in his chest isn’t so distracting that he can’t fall asleep.

-

“So, I need a favor,” Kenma says as he rests his arms against the counter in Akaashi’s kitchen. Akaashi squints his eyes at him, but Bokuto beside him immediately perks up.

“You don’t usually ask for favors,” he points out as he tilts his head in thought. A second later he’s snapping his fingers with a grin. “It’s for your anniversary, huh.”

Both Kenma and Akaashi turn to look at him in shock.

“What, it’s in a week isn’t it?” Bokuto asks with a shrug. “It’s all Kuroo’s been talking about. Plus, you don’t like asking for favors, so it had to be something important.”

“Kuro is so embarrassing,” Kenma groans into his hands.

“No, he’s just in love.”

Kenma’s groaning intensifies.

“Okay, that’s enough of that,” Akaashi says. Kenma peaks up from behind his fingers to see Akaashi looking at him with a wry expression. “What is it that you need us to do then?”

Kenma takes a deep breath and straightens his back. “I need you to help me cook.”

He’s met with complete silence.

“…cook,” Akaashi repeats haltingly. “You want us to help  _ you _ cook?”

“That’s what I said,” Kenma bit out.

“But Kenma why!” Bokuto explodes. “You don’t cook! I don’t cook! We’re the no cooking pair!”

“Bokuto, you are levels above Kenma in terms of cooking skills,” Akaashi interjects and Kenma turns his head to gape at him. “You could make a hearty dinner for us – I doubt Kenma could manage past making rice.”

“I’m right here, thanks,” Kenma says flatly. He huffs an impatient breath before continuing, “And I’ve been practicing too.”

“Oho, practicing,” Bokuto replies looking more intrigued. “What does that mean?”

“It means that I’ve been spending the last two Fridays trying to figure out this meal from hell with no success,” Kenma snaps. Akaashi and Bokuto’s eyebrows rise in sync. Kenma sighs, and his body deflates. “Sorry, I just…I wouldn’t be here if I thought I could do it alone. And it turns out I can’t.”

“There’s nothing wrong with asking for help,” Akaashi says, sounding gentle for the first time since Kenma had visited. “We’re just honestly surprised that you’re choosing to do this.”

Kenma turns his head so he doesn’t have to face them and mumbles, “It’s what’ll make Kuro happy.”

Unfortunately, being turned away does nothing to mute Bokuto’s overexaggerated cooing.

“Okay, we’ll help!” Bokuto announces. Kenma snaps his head back to him with wide eyes. “And by we, I mean mostly Akaashi, but I will be there too to cheer you on. But since we’re doing you this favor, that means you owe us something too.”

And Bokuto is obviously joking when he says that last bit, but Akaashi’s eyes light up in a way Kenma isn’t comfortable with at all. So, he speaks before he can make any requests.

“I’ll shout you out on Twitter.”

“Wait, really?” Bokuto asks enthusiastically. He pauses and then narrows his eyes at Kenma. “I’ve been asking you to do that for two years. How bad exactly is this recipe?”

And for the faces they make as he explains just how complex the meal is, the next day Kenma makes them carry his groceries for him.

Unfortunately, as they make their way up to Kenma’s house the next day, Akaashi feels the need to realize this.

“I don’t see why you can’t carry any groceries,” Akaashi says with a grunt.

“I need a free hand for my keys,” Kenma says lightly as he begins unlocking the door. He figures he shouldn’t mention they’re carrying enough groceries to last for next week’s final attempt. He isn’t doing another godforsaken grocery trip. “Besides we have Bokuto. He’s carrying even more than Kuro’s able to.”

And yeah, he’s definitely saying that to get a rise out of Bokuto, but it works, so he doesn’t regret it.

“I am?” Bokuto asks with a grin before he snatches the groceries Akaashi had been carrying and carries them all the way to the kitchen. “I am so rubbing this in Kuroo’s face!”

“You’ll ruin the surprise if you do that,” Kenma points out wryly as he follows after him. Maybe he regrets it a little.

“Let me see this list,” Akaashi says, and Kenma glances back at him at the demand, but pulls the folded recipe from his pocket and hands it to him. Akaashi brings the paper closer to his eyes with a squint.

“Your handwriting is so small,” he murmurs, and Kenma bristles. “But at least it’s legible. Okay, let’s start with the daikon.”

Kenma’s eyebrows furrow as he looks towards the radish. “But that’s dish 12?”

“We shouldn’t make these in the order they're listed in,” Akaashi says as he raises his eyebrows. “You eat them in that order, but a lot of the meal would go bad if left out for too long. So, we’ll start by pickling the daikon – which you should technically do a couple of days in advance – but I know a way to speed the process up.”

Kenma listens with wide eyes as Akaashi starts listing off the new order that they’re going to be cooking everything. He pulls open a drawer in the kitchen and shoves a pen into his hand. And although Akaashi looks vaguely annoyed, he does start jotting his notes on the paper.

Not long after, Akaashi is bossing Bokuto and Kenma around the kitchen. Whenever he thinks something is particularly important, he’ll demonstrate it for them – such as the best way to dice the vegetables – but other than that he’s basically just telling them what to do.

And while Kenma does agree that he’ll learn better from actually practicing what Akaashi is teaching him, he can’t help but think it’s also revenge for the grocery situation.

“Akaashi, why do I have to carry the hotpot over?.”

“Well, you’re so strong, aren’t you?”

Yep,  _ definitely _ revenge.

But revenge or not, Kenma’s finishing the meal in record time. He pulls out the picture his mother had messaged him of how the kaiseki was supposed to look, and this time he’s the one bossing around Akaashi and Bokuto as he makes sure the presentation is perfect.

“Do we finally get to try it now?” Bokuto asks as he adjusts a single cut cod for the nth time. Kenma studies the set up for a moment more before he gives a short nod.

They all start reaching for different parts – caring much less about order and much more about the taste – and Kenma helps himself to the hot pot. And it’s not bad.

Actually, it’s better than ‘not bad’. Pretty much incredible compared to what he’d come up with before. But as he swallows down the mouthful, he can’t stop the way his shoulder droop. Because he finally remembers that meal. That single bite finally triggers his memory of sharing this meal with Kuroo at the insistence of his grandmother. The way everything had come together, how beautiful it had been, how it had Kenma eating eagerly for the first time in his life.

And the bite he’d just had was a very flat imitation of that.

Apparently, his disappointment is written all over his face.

“I think it tastes great!” Bokuto says at an enthusiasm level that’s just a touch too forced. “I tried a couple, and they all go well together.”

“This is rather impressive, Kenma,” Akaashi adds. “And everything tastes good.”

And he knows they’re right. There’s nothing inherently wrong with what they made. It’s Kenma’s best attempt by far, and everything in general tastes like it’s supposed to.

But he also knows it’s not quite right. That the flavors are just that side of bitter, and that the presentation is all off, that it’s all just a pale comparison to what it’s supposed to be.

He’s silent as he helps Bokuto and Akaashi pack the food away so they can take it home. Bokuto keeps speaking, complimenting the food over and over until Akaashi lays a settling hand on his shoulder.

“We’re heading out now, Kenma,” he says as he turns to give him a small smile. Kenma nods once. “This really was very good, and I think Kuroo-san will really love it. In fact, I think he’d love it no matter how much it tastes.”

And as he walks them to the door, he can’t help but think that’s the reason this needs to be perfect. Kuroo would absolutely love this for just the effort, but he deserves more than that. Kuroo shouldn’t have to settle for whatever mediocre thing Kenma can scrounge up. He deserves the meal that he’s only had twice in his life, the meal that brings him happiness, and he deserves for that meal to taste just right.

But Kenma isn’t even able to give him that, even after his third attempt. And all he wants to do is curl up in his bed, but Kuroo is going to be home in a few minutes, and he has to keep pretending like nothing’s happening or else everything will have been for nothing. But he’s just so tired.

In no time, Kuroo is walking through their front door just in time for the sunset to peek in through the windows, and Kenma’s more than ready for the whole day to just be over with.

“…what’s that smell?”

But of course, that would be too good to be true.

“What smell?” Kenma asks from his spot on the couch. He’s playing through a game he’s beaten already, so he doesn’t really care when he dies for the seventh time. He does care that Kuroo seemed to have picked up on the lingering smell of the pickled radish he left out for too long.

“You don’t smell that?” Kuroo asks as he makes his way into the kitchen, sniffing the whole way. Kenma feels his entire body tense, and desperately hopes that he did a good enough job cleaning after himself. “It smells really strong of vinegar and I think radish…”

“I don’t smell anything, but maybe it’s a neighbor,” Kenma replies, careful to keep his voice even. “Or maybe you’re just imagining it.”

Kuroo sighs heavily and Kenma finally looks up to see him standing in the kitchen with a furrowed brow. He shakes his head, and then looks over to Kenma and smiles when he catches him looking. Kenma rolls his eyes fondly as Kuroo makes his way to the living room.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Kuroo says as he collapses right next to Kenma on the couch. “Why would it smell like that anyway?”

And Kenma can’t help the way his body tenses at the question. Kuroo stills beside him and Kenma wants to scream because of course he noticed. He immediately lowers his game lower so Kuroo can look over his shoulder as he plays.

As he expects, Kuroo’s gaze flickers down to the screen in curiosity. What he doesn’t expect is for Kuroo’s eyes to widen before he plucks the game out of Kenma’s grasp and pulls his hands close to his face.

“What—”

“Kenma, what happened to your hands?” Kuroo interrupts, voice serious and concerned. Kenma’s eyes widen as he lowers his gaze.

His hands have seen better days. There are cuts all over them, along his fingers and the palms and the sides. The blisters that he got from carrying the bags so many times are still puffy and pink, and next to them are burn marks from all the times Kenma has singed himself on the stove. All in all, it makes quite a sight. He’s surprised he hasn’t really noticed it before.

He’s not that surprised that Kuroo notices it immediately.

Kenma has never cared that much about his looks. He does the bare minimum to look presentable, maybe a little more when he goes to board meetings, but he’s never been one to put much effort into his appearance.

But Kuroo always goes on about how gorgeous he thinks Kenma is. Not enough that Kenma thinks that’s the only, or even in the top five reasons he’s with Kenma, but enough for him to know that Kuroo does think Kenma is truly beautiful.

Except right now he feels the furthest thing from that. And as the truly awful state of his hands, and how completely useless he feels, and the fact that there might not even be a surprise all come together, Kenma begins to snap.

“It’s nothing,” he says as he snatches his hand out of Kuroo’s grip. Kuroo looks up at him in surprise. “I’ve just been extra clumsy lately.”

“That didn’t look like extra clumsy,” Kuroo replies pointedly, and he tries reaching for Kenma again. “What’s really going on?”

“Why do you have to assume something is going on?” Kenma asks as he dodges Kuroo and stands from the couch. He’s grabbing his handheld and stuffing it in his pocket as he continues, “Sometimes I drop things or spill things, it happens.”

And sometimes Kenma cracks an egg unevenly and the shell crumbles in so he has to start all over. And sometimes Kenma burns his fingers on a pan and ends up running his finger under the water so long that the food ends up burning. And sometimes Kenma is just so useless he can’t even make a single dinner for the man he calls the love of his life.

His grip tightens around the handheld.

“Because that’s not what’s happening here!” Kuroo exclaims. He stands up to face Kenma and lets out a frustrated sound when Kenma turns his back to him. “Kenma, I’ve known you forever – I can tell the difference between an accident and whatever the hell is going on. So, stop being so stubborn and let me take care of—”

“Oh, of course, _ you  _ have to take care of it,” Kenma says bitterly, malice laced through his tone. “God forbid I get myself into a situation, right? And then you need to fix everything for me since I can’t do it myself.”

And Kenma’s too self-aware to not know where this is all coming from. He knows that this has a lot more to do with his own sense of inadequacy than anything else, and that Kuroo is really coming from a place of care, and that this is a conversation that needs to be had at another time when he isn’t feeling so stressed out and defeated.

But the only other way to end this conversation is to tell Kuroo what actually happened, and that’s not really an option either.

“That’s not what I’m saying!” Kuroo says in disbelief. He tries pulling on Kenma’s shoulder to see his face, but Kenma refuses to budge. “There’s just obviously a problem, and I’m trying to figure out what it is so I can help.”

“I’m not a child,” Kenma replies through gritted teeth. “If there was a problem, I could handle things myself. You don’t need to baby me.”

“What, am I not allowed to be worried when there’s clearly something wrong?” Kuroo demands. “When you’re clearly hiding things from me?”

“I’m allowed to have my privacy, Kuro,” Kenma snaps whirling around to glare at the man. “I’m allowed to choose what I tell and to who, I’m allowed to keep things to myself, and I’m allowed to figure things out by myself if I want to because I’m a grown man and perfectly capable of doing things on my own.”

Kuroo looks down at him, anger, hurt, and frustration written plainly across his face, and Kenma can’t take it. He storms away and into the bedroom with the slam of the door. He doesn’t hear Kuroo follow after him.

That’s definitely for the best.

Doesn’t hurt Kenma any less.

He collapses against the door. Part of him knows he’s in the wrong, but a smaller part of him wishes that Kuroo would have just dropped it. While he knows it comes from a place of care, if he says it’s something Kuroo doesn’t have to worry about, then he shouldn’t worry about it.

Not that Kenma wouldn’t be out of his mind with concern if Kuroo’s hands were as messed up as his currently were.

Kenma sighs heavily and rests his head back against the door. He listens as Kuroo seems to be making his way back into the kitchen. Right. Because he’d just gotten home from work, and they usually ate something together.

Kenma can’t really deal with that right now.

So, while he hears the sound of pans clanging, he makes his way into the bathroom to shower. He stays there for a long time, trying to clear his head and figure out the perfect words to appease Kuroo. He needs something that will explain all his strange behaviour, while simultaneously making sure Kuroo isn’t suspicious of anything. He also needs something that won’t make Kuroo feel bad about himself or their relationship.

Kenma grimaces at the thought. He’s still grimacing and trying to figure out the right words when he finally finishes his shower. However, when he steps out of the bathroom to see Kuroo laying on the bed dejectedly, any and all preparation leaves his mind. Before he can even think, he’s climbing onto the bed beside him and spooning him from behind. He feels Kuroo let out a relieved sigh, and knows he has to be the first one to speak up.

“Hi.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No,” Kenma says immediately, pulling on Kuroo’s shoulder until he’s on his back and Kenma can see his face. Kuroo is staring up at him with such a forlorn look on his face, and Kenma feels awful for putting it there. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I…I’ve been stressed out, and I took it out on you, and that wasn’t fair.”

“I still didn’t have to push…” Kuroo starts before Kenma interrupts him with a glare. He lets out a soft chuckle, and Kenma feels a lot of the tension leave Kuroo’s body. “Okay, fine, I’m not sorry.” He looks down at Kenma a moment longer before continuing, “But you would tell me if…whatever is going on is too much for you, right?”

“I promise,” Kenma says softly. “And I’ll tell you about it once this is all over. But this is something I have to do myself.”

“I respect that,” Kuroo says as he pulls Kenma even closer and says into his hair. “And I do trust you. If you say you can handle it, then you can handle it.”

“Thank you,” Kenma replies, and he’s doing his absolute best to fight back the tears. The last thing he needs is to cry in Kuroo’s arms right after assuring him that he is fine.

“I made you dinner,” Kuroo says gently, graciously changing the subject. Kenma looks up to see a rice bowl on the nightstand, and his heart simultaneously soars and plummets.

“Thank you,” Kenma replies as he presses a kiss to Kuroo’s chest, but then he’s instinctively scrunching his nose and blurting out. “You stink.”

Kuroo guffaws at him incredulously and Kenma snorts at the expression. Almost immediately the tension is sapping from the room, and Kenma can do nothing but yelp as Kuroo rolls over on him.

“I slave over the stove for you and this is the thanks I get,” Kuroo whines as he lays his body heavily over Kenma. Oh, if only he knew the irony of that statement. Instead, Kenma pinches his side, and Kuroo jolts, giving Kenma all he needs to push Kuroo entirely off of him. Ignoring Kuroo’s exaggerated whimpering, he looks down at the bed sheets in disdain.

“I can’t believe you got in the bed without showering,” Kenma says with a scrunch of his nose.

“I changed out of my day clothes!” Kuroo exclaims with a laugh. “And you are the last one that gets to judge. You crawl into bed sometimes after pulling all night streams!”

“I’ve been in the house all day, it’s different,” Kenma replies with a quirk of his lips.

“You’ve slept when this bed has been in much worse states,” Kuroo says with a smirk as he dodges the hit Kenma aims for him and stands up to shower. “Eat the food, I worked hard on it, y’know.”

And as Kuroo makes his way into the bathroom, Kenma really thinks about his words. Kuroo does work really hard on cooking. Kenma really never tried cooking before, so he never knew just how much effort it required. And while it’s never as elaborate as the behemoth of a meal Kenma is attempting, Kuroo cooks for them most days of the week and it always turns out good.

And it’s not for bragging rights or to show off. It’s because he wants to give Kenma good food.

Resolved, Kenma pulls the plate closer and stuffs his mouth until his cheeks puff out. If Kuroo can do that for him, Kenma will do this dinner for Kuroo.

-

The day of their anniversary Kenma is gently shaken awake. He groans pointedly, not quite understanding why he’s being forced awake on a Friday, before he realizes what day it is exactly. Kenma opens his eyes slowly and looks up through his sleep hazy eyes to see Kuroo smiling down at him.

“Sorry, sorry, I know you usually sleep in on Fridays,” Kuroo whispers gently once Kenma finally focuses his eyes on the man. “And you can go back to sleep after if you want. I just figured you’d like this best warm.”

Kuroo looks down, and Kenma follows his gaze to see a very familiar pastry box in Kuroo’s hand. His eyes widen.

“This is from my favorite shop,” Kenma murmurs as he pulls the box from Kuroo’s hand. “But they relocated across the city, how’d you get it this early?”

“I’ve always been an early riser,” Kuroo replies with a shrug and Kenma gives him an incredulous look. This place was now a 51-minute drive from their apartment. Kenma knows. He’s checked many times. He turns to look at their bedside clock to figure out exactly what time Kuroo must have woken up at, but he stops cold at the bouquet of flowers on the nightstand.

“This obviously isn’t your whole anniversary gift,” Kuroo continues nervously and it takes Kenma a long moment that he’s reading Kenma’s shocked silence as something bad. “I just figured that since we wouldn’t be able to spend the day together, I would be able to at least do this for you before heading to work.”

Kenma looks back down at the small box on his lap. The whole week leading up to this day has been strange for the both of them. Kuroo knew there was something wrong and was obviously worried but trying hard not to let it show, and Kenma was worried he was going to mess up his final attempt at making this dinner for Kuroo. And if his reaction is anything to go by, the tense atmosphere has been getting to Kuroo’s head.

But he doesn’t know how Kuroo can get up at least two hours earlier than he usually does, go across town to get him his an apple pie from his favorite bakery, pick up flowers, bring it all back to Kenma, and wake him up so that Kenma doesn’t have to spend the first couple moments of their anniversary alone and come to the conclusion that Kenma would be upset about this at any level.

Gently sliding the box off his lap, Kenma reached up to Kuroo and pulled him down by the collar of his shirt to press a firm kiss against his lips. He feels Kuroo falter for a moment before he’s returning the kiss with a hand behind Kenma’s head. When he breaks his way and opens his eyes, Kuroo is looking at him with an expression that’s both pleased and confused.

“I love you,” Kenma says steadfastly as he meets Kuroo’s eyes. “I love you so much, and this means the world to me.”

Kuroo’s flushes from his neck to the tips of his ears and Kenma feels his entire expression go soft.

“I love you too,” Kuroo replies a little breathily. “Happy anniversary.”

“Happy anniversary,” Kenma says with a small smile. “Now go to work, you’re going to be late.”

“I mean, I am the one making the big bucks around here,” Kuroo says as he rolls his eyes and straightens back up. Kenma resists hitting him with a pillow. He doesn’t want to ruin the pie.

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll be home by seven, right?” Kenma asks even though he has the time Kuroo will be home by tonight ingrained into his brain.

“Yep,” Kuroo replies as he prepares to leave the room. “So be ready when I get home so we can make the reservation I made in time.”

Kenma nods even though he called to cancel that reservation yesterday.

“Alright, I’ll see you late – good luck with your editing!” Kuroo calls as he makes his way out the door. Kenma pulls the box back in his lap right as Kuroo continues to yell out, “I love you! I can’t wait to see you! This will be the best anniversary ever!”

“Shut up!” Kenma yells right back. He’s happy Kuroo’s not there so he can’t see the dumb smile on his face.

He waits until he hears the front door close, and then he sits up in bed. He doesn’t have to start cooking for another couple of hours, but he does want to go over the recipe step by step to make sure he knows what to expect. He also wants to look over the notes Akaashi made so he can make this the best anniversary for Kuroo.

He  _ will  _ make this the best anniversary for Kuroo.

After eating his pie, showering to wake himself up, and going over the notes, Kenma stands at the entryway to his kitchen with his sleeves rolled up and an apron around his waist. He’s going to beat this boss.

He puts his phone on do-not-disturb and tucks his games in the deep corner of his room. He won’t allow himself to be distracted by anything, and he’s determined to stay focused the entire time.

He pulls all the pans, pots, and ingredients he needs and begins to prepare everything. He doesn’t start in the order that everything is supposed to be served. Instead, he starts with the bases of the large meals, and the parts that can be left out a little longer once complete.

He goes to add to the base of the hotpot when he realizes it’s not boiling anymore. His eyes widen and he looks to see that at some point he had accidentally turned the stove off. 

Kenma knows he has to keep pushing past this. It’s a small mistake and is nothing to lose his mind over. But even as he moves to start slicing the fish, he can’t stop thinking about it. The hot pot is the main course of the whole thing, so if it’s not good then the whole meal goes down. And then all he’s remembering is the bite he took yesterday of the hotpot, and how much it fell flat of his expectations. So caught up in his thoughts, he’s about half a second away from slicing his finger open when a loud knock sounds at the door.

Kenma furrows his brow. No one is supposed to be over today.

Readjusting his ponytail, he makes his way to the front door and peaks out the window. He blinks in surprise when he sees Bokuto.

He swings open the door, ready to reprimand Bokuto because he  _ told _ him he would be doing this himself, but he stops immediately when he sees the bouquet in his hands.

“Delivery for Kenma!”

“He already got me flowers,” Kenma murmurs, mostly to himself as he looks down at the flowers in Bokuto’s hands.

“Well you can never have too many - just like how you can never have too much help,” Bokuto says with a wink as he pushes the flowers into Kenma’s hands. He smiles more encouragingly at Kenma before adding, “And good luck with the dinner. I know you’ll be able to do it!”

Bokuto leaves with a quick wave, and Kenma looks back down at the flowers in his hands. There was no way Kuroo knew he was going to need a pick-me-up like this at this time. But as Kenma brings the flowers to his face and hides his smile in their petals, he can’t help but think that it wouldn’t be too crazy a thought. Kuroo had always known him a little too well.

Walking back into the house, Kenma gently places the bouquet in the living room, tightens his apron, and strengthens his resolve. He can do this.

He goes back to cutting the fish, his mistake long gone from his mind, and doesn’t let anything get himself down. He makes a couple small mistakes, putting a touch too much ginger in the rice or udo in the soup, but there hasn’t been anything major.

He’s remembering to wash pans as he goes so he can reuse them. He’s starting to plate some of the more resilient items. He’s finishing the fourteenth step and focusing on the presentation. He’s beginning to believe he can pull this off.

Just as he’s adjusting the final dish so that it matches the picture his mother had sent him, he hears the front door open. Kenma brushes his hair out of his face, his messy ponytail on the verge of falling apart, and glances at the clock with wide eyes.

7:00 pm.

“Kenma, I’m home!”

And Kenma has pretty much never been so nervous in his whole life.

Because he isn’t just giving Kuroo dinner. He’s giving Kuroo’s his best attempt at his grandmother’s recipe. The recipe that got Kuroo to push through so much hardship from the grandmother that Kuroo had spoken to before even asking Kenma out. And while he knows they won’t break up over it, Kenma feels like if he did do something horribly wrong, Kuroo would be reasonably upset.

He just hopes he did her memory justice.

“Kenma, where are you?” Kuroo calls as he makes his way deeper into the house, and closer to where Kenma is nervously tugging at the apron at his front. He wishes he’d had just a bit more time to clean himself up a bit. “I need the love of my life on this most—”

And then Kuroo is turning into the dining room and Kenma feels his entire body tense.

“…Kenma?” Kuroo asks as he steps further into the room. Kenma’s eyes catch onto the bouquet of flowers in his hand, and he releases an unsteady breath.

It’s still Kuroo. No matter what happens, this is the man who has gone out of his way to get Kenma three separate bouquets of flowers in a single day. The man who woke up even earlier than his usual workday requires of him to surprise Kenma with his favorite apple pie. The man who practically passed out when Kenma had earnestly said ‘I love you’ that morning.

It’s Kuroo. He’ll be fine.

“So…I made you dinner,” Kenma starts as he gestures weakly to the table next to him. “For our anniversary.”

“Aw, Kenma you made a kaiseki,” Kuroo coos as he comes up to wrap his arms around Kenma in a hug. He presses his lips to the top of Kenma’s head and Kenma can feel him smiling into it. “This is so sweet – you really made a lot though,” Kuroo’s head is turning to study the table more closely and Kenma’s heartbeat quickens, “Like I haven’t seen one this elaborate—”

And Kuroo freezes again. Except this time Kenma can feel him freeze against him and it’s like everything about Kuroo stills. His words, his breathing, and even his heart seem to stop before he’s pulling away from Kenma to look more closely at the arrangement.

And Kenma has never understood the urge to ramble when nervous. He thinks staying silent is the best course of action during a nerve-wracking situation, lest he make everything worse by speaking up. But right now, as Kuroo stares at the table to his right without a single word, Kenma finally sees why people feel the need to fill the silence.

“I, uh, I got the idea when we were talking about it,” Kenma starts as he trains his eyes onto the floor in front of him. “Like a month ago? I’m not sure if you remember, but you were talking about this and your grandmother and how you hadn’t had it before. So, I called my mom and she still had the recipe, so I thought it’d be okay but if it’s not I understand, I was just trying—”

“In what world would this not be okay?” Kuroo interrupts and Kenma could kiss him for that alone. When his words finally register, Kenma looks up to see Kuroo looking at him with tears in his eyes. “I don’t even know what to say…”

And Kuroo’s words get warbly at the end, and Kenma is just speaking now to keep him from crying. “I just…didn’t want to upset you.”

“Kenma, you decided to teach yourself how to cook the meal from my fondest memory of my grandmother – despite not knowing how to cook at all – because I mentioned it once in a conversation,” Kuroo sighs exasperatedly as he comes to close again. He holds Kenma around his waist and Kenma is happy to see that he doesn’t look quite on the verge of tears anymore. “There’s no way I could ever be upset about that.”

“It’s not like I didn’t know how to cook  _ at all, _ ” Kenma mumbles as he brings a hand up to tuck his hair behind his ears. He knows it's petty to get stuck on that, but his mother had brought it up too, and it’s not likely he went into this completely blind. His train of thought is broken when he feels Kuroo move a hand from his waist grab at Kenma’s own hand.

“Kenma,” he rasps as his eyes remain trained on Kenma’s hand, and Kenma eyes widen at the sound. He repeats, “Kenma, is  _ this _ the reason your hands…the reason you’ve been so stressed, Kenma, I—”

And then Kuroo’s voice is catching and before Kenma can say a thing there are tears falling from his eyes. Kenma’s eyes get even bigger at the sight, and he immediately tries wiping away at them.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Kuroo says through his tears. “You just worked so hard, and to know this is why you’ve been so on edge, and you have  _ burns _ on your hand Kenma, oh my god.”

And Kenma doesn’t know how to get Kuroo to stop crying right now, so he just goes with a simple, “I love you.”

Kuroo starts crying harder. Kenma really should have seen that coming.

He opens his mouth, not sure what to say next, but he knows he wants him to stop because he’s blushing so bad and he’s so embarrassed because he didn’t even do much, he just cooked dinner. But he knows saying that will just send Kuroo on a tangent.

However, before he can decide what to say, Kuroo is crushing him against his chest.

“Just let me hold you for a little bit,” Kuroo murmurs against his hair. Kenma relaxes his body for what feels like the first time that day and wraps his arms around Kuroo. He can let Kuroo do this for as long as he wants.

Kenma’s not sure how long they stay like that. He kinds of wants to bring up the food, but he figures this is more important than making sure all the food is piping hot.

“I really appreciate you,” Kuroo says finally. He pulls back enough to look Kenma in his eyes. “I’ve been worried sick about you this past week, and now knowing it was because of this is almost overwhelming. I know how much work this had to be, and I’m so touched by the effort you put in.”

Kenma bites his lip, unsure if his next words are going to make Kuroo start crying again. But he deserves to hear them.

“When I first told my mother about this, she was worried,” Kenma says slowly. “She said that while I don’t put in the effort for a lot of things, when I care about something, I put my all into it. And there’s nothing or no one I care about more than you. So, I’ll always put in the effort when it comes to you. When it comes to us.”

And Kuroo’s eyes gleam, but he doesn’t cry. Instead, he cups his hands around Kenma’s face and leans down to kiss Kenma deeply. Kenma is taken aback for exactly one second before he’s opening his mouth to Kuroo to kiss him back just as intensely. Kuroo immediately deepens the kiss and Kenma is left grasping at his shirt as Kuroo tilts his head back even more.

“Okay, we actually do have to eat the food,” Kenma breathes as Kuroo’s kisses trail from his mouth to his neck. Kuroo kisses more insistently at his neck, and Kenma grips tighter at his shirt. “No, Kuro, if we don’t eat this, I will murder you.”

Kuroo laughs against him, his entire body shaking as he finally pulls away and looks down at Kenma with a fond look. “Alright, that’s fair. Let’s try the fruits of your labor.”

“Wow, you’ve completely ruined the moment,” Kenma said flatly as he pulls away entirely from Kuroo and makes his way to the table. “And in only six words. That’s got to be some kind of record for you.”

Kuroo laughs again, but graciously remains silent as he sits at the table next to Kenma. He looks expectantly at Kenma and Kenma looks down to pull the first part of their 14-course meal closer to them.

“Eat.”

And then they’re making their way through every course. Kenma did not realize how starving he was until he took his first bite, and it’s a struggle for him not to simply scarf everything down. But this is for Kuroo, so he keeps to his share. Besides, as they make their way towards the end of the meal, Kenma can already feel himself becoming full.

“That was really good,” Kuroo sighs as he picks at another dish. Kenma is leaning against him, food making him pleasantly drowsy. “Like really good. Like, might ask you to cook for me again good.”

“I’m never stepping foot in a kitchen again,” Kenma says, and even though he’s exaggerating, he is not planning on touching a stove for at least a month.

“I don’t know,” Kuroo sings teasingly. “Apparently I’m a really good motivator for you.”

“I will divorce you right now,” Kenma says drily and Kuroo laughs as he pulls at his left hand. He lets Kuroo play with the ring on his finger, but he still rolls his eyes.

“Wow, and on our one-year anniversary, how ruthless,” Kuroo says with a smirk. He presses his lips against the band on Kenma’s finger, and he keeps them there as he continues speaking, “Thought we’d last a bit longer than that.”

“Just a bit,” Kenma says as he raises an eyebrow and absolutely loathing the fact that he’s blushing as Kuroo continues to trail kisses up his arm.

Kuroo hums as he makes his way up to Kenma’s neck, and then against his jaw says, “Yeah just a bit. Somewhere around a lifetime.”

And Kenma is glad that Kuroo takes the opportunity to kiss him then because he has absolutely no comeback in his head for that. A couple of moments later, he doesn’t really have thoughts in his head at all.

**Author's Note:**

> YES i made their love language food even though kenma has the smallest appetite of all the characters AND WHAT ABT IT
> 
> feel free to come by on my [twitter!](https://twitter.com/neenswrites) i mostly just scream incoherently about kuroken and hq but i swear its fun anviuajndks


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